


Between Two Lungs

by lolthefudge, tabloidsuperjunkie (orphan_account)



Series: Fangs [2]
Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Nyongtory, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, a little platonic here, more characters will be added later, nyongtori
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-01-28 07:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12601716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolthefudge/pseuds/lolthefudge, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/tabloidsuperjunkie
Summary: The hourglass occupying the hollowness between Jiyong's two lungs has stopped trickling. Broken and crushed, the male has been straying, his memories are blurred images and faceless figures flashing before his eyes – except for one man.He knows he’s made the decision years ago, when he was still so young and reckless, but now, as he’s creeping beneath the dark veil covering the sky, the rage burning his heart sparks once again following an unexpected encounter with a face from his past;the past that made him the way he is now and left him a mark on his neck.Seungri.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this story is what follows after do not go gentle into that good night. similar to the pilot, their romance is platonic here.  
> there may be blood, violence, and gore; warning for rated chapter(s) will be provided accordingly.

 

**1**

 

 ** _The lewd moan tainted_** **_the_** motel room, growing only loud and louder in every passing second. A heart, pumping blood in and out the rush of red, thudded frantically that matched the beat of thighs slapping. The hip under him pushed upwards as the body arched, nails digging deeper into his back left him nothing but a faint sensation. His name rolled from the cherry red lips, chanted like a mantra each time he buried his length deeper into the wet hole.

Lowering his gaze, he found a face he knew he wouldn’t remember once the sun came. His gaze trailed down from the contrast of black hair sprawled across the white linen towards the bouncing breasts – a shade of brown blossoming on the pale white skin with the slightly darker, erected tip. Grunting, his hands secured the hips and together, the two bodies rolled so that their position swapped. The female, her eyes closed and her mouth opened in pure ecstasy, grabbed his shoulders and moaned even louder once her nipple was trapped between the other lips. Her body bounced on top of his cold one, relishing the sensation from the change of position.

“ _Ji-Jiyong… Ah!_ ”

It was nothing. Jiyong felt nothing, either in his tongue as his mouth sucked the breast or around his penis. A quiet ‘click’, unnoticed amidst the noise, was soon followed by the fresh scent he had grown accustomed to. Soon enough, the nothingness inside Jiyong’s mouth was replaced by a combination of sourness, sweetness, and bitterness, along with the familiar metal trace.

The body jerking, desperately trying to slip from his embrace, and the sinful whimper had turned into a scream. But Jiyong was undoubtedly much stronger, especially with each drop of blood entering his system. Eventually, the struggling weakened, the submission was inevitable; when the only heart inside the room had stopped beating, it was when he tossed the body to the bed, watching the splatter of crimson staining the linen.

Jiyong closed his eyes and with a muffled thud, his figure joined the lifeless body in the bed. Darkness flourished beneath the lids and a voice from the distant past welcomed him, saying, “Vengeance isn’t always the answer, Jiyong.”

 

*

 

Needless to say, Daesung was furious – even when he said nothing from the other end of the call, Jiyong could feel the anger. The silence lingered for a little too long than usual, yet Jiyong kept his too, his fingers fiddled on the table where a cup of coffee sat, a puff of hot air spiraling over the dark substance.

Jiyong decided to break the silence first. “You know, I can p—”

“Of course you’re going to pay extra, _vampire_ ,” Daesung spat, hissing the last word with an immense loathing Jiyong no longer unfamiliar with. “Because you must, just like what you’ve done before. You’re lucky that you’re careful enough to always ask for the lonely kinds, the ones that won’t raise any suspicion even if they suddenly disappear.”

“I know,” a smirk touched Jiyong’s lips, knowing how even angrier the other man would be to hear his answer. And Jiyong wasn’t wrong once Daesung yelled, calling him names for causing him trouble and giving him more works when it was still 3 A.M. – _especially_ when it was still 3 A.M. Five minutes had passed and the vampire decided to cut the angry man. “Okay, so when will your man finally arrive at my place? I must go when it’s still dark outside, you know?”

“Why don’t you just go to hell now?” And nothing, as the man had ended the call.

Jiyong put the phone back to the table and brought the cup with him as his feet strode towards the sink inside the bathroom. He poured the coffee, leaving enough inside the cup as if he had drunk it. The mirror mounted to the wall before him showed a face that remained unchanged for years, except for a scar running from the temple towards the jaw as he tilted his head slightly to the left – an unsightly streak dipped in a reddish color contrasting his bronze skin. Black spots fell into his vision the further his head tilted.

His forefinger reached for the mark, its tip pushed the patch of skin, rubbing it lightly. The last thing Daesung hissed only a moment ago came across his mind, echoed as each word hit the wall inside his head.

_Why don’t you just go to hell now?_

Jiyong’s eyes caught a small smirk forming on the lips of a silhouette before him, the thick darkness of the orbs staring back at him revealed a realization he had started to learn ever since he was dumped in the quiet of the night years ago. It was a knowledge coming along with a poison corrupting every part of his mind, decaying the only purpose that had kept him from pursuing an option other than to live ever since he was nothing but an angry soul inside a frail body – when he was still anything but immortal.

He could feel it in his bones, he could _almost_ taste it in his tongue.

Every so often, people stumbled and made mistakes, only to rise again. But to Jiyong, his one and only mistake had brought him an endless night, a vast darkness colored with splash of crimson, artificial pleasure, and a hollow inside his chest. The world around him still moved at a constant pace, leaving him Jiyong far behind. And each time Jiyong opened his eyes, the world he had always known had become nothing but a vague memory he could hardly pick up.

Because what was _hell_ , when what he had been forced to go through was way beyond horrid? And what was _hell_ , when death was no longer an answer to end his anguish? Time had frozen inside him – a punishment for cutting the only thread that once connecting him to the world mortals.

 

*

 

Contrary to his employer, Youngbae met Jiyong with a wide smile crinkling his small eyes. A mortal he was, and Jiyong had taken a liking to the male as Daesung had sent him to the vampire every so often. To Daesung, Youngbae was usually referred as The Wolf – a nod to one of the cult classics from the 90s Jiyong never bothered to remember.

In short, it was Youngbae’s work to help hide and remove the body left by – according to Daesung – the animalistic ungrateful piece of asses, in which Jiyong had the honor to be listed as one.

And in every occasion, Youngbae gave Jiyong a ride in his truck after he finished the work so that the vampire could still avoid the sun each time he had to leave a place – it was known, though unspoken, that every time a vampire drained a body Daesung provided, he or she had to flee immediately or the man would teach the animalistic ungrateful piece of asses some _lessons_. This time was no exception as both the human and vampire were spotted inside the vehicle, cutting through the quiet of the town.

Jiyong settled himself on the backseat, his knees folded and his back leaned against the window Youngbae kindly covered with a layer of thick black fabric. He sniffed in the air, tasting the faint stench of blood seeping from the blanket under the seat, wrapping around a corpse, drained from its life. A groan rumbled from the base of his throat as he clicked his fangs out – a mere reflex.

“Where are you planning to go to?” The question surprisingly managed to slip out the mouth full of sandwich Youngbae was chewing. His smiling eyes met Jiyong’s on the rearview mirror for a moment before the male darted his gaze back to the empty road before him.

Jiyong shrugged, throwing his body down to the seat and staring at the ceiling. Warm golden light crept through the front window as the truck continued cruising, the hum coming from under the hood joined in. “I don’t know.”

“Sorry, man, but there’s no place named I Don’t Know.”

“Ha-ha,” Jiyong scoffed. “Does your boss also pay you to be funny?”

“Of course,” Jiyong could imagine a grin plastered on Youngbae’s face, “He always appreciates comedy.”

“Where’s the kid, by the way?”

“In her room; you’re lucky I was close to the city. Boss would really hate it if he had to wake her up this late. And it was her birthday last week, you know? I mean, her _actual_ birthday, not the day when she turned.”

The information made Jiyong quirk an eyebrow. “Really? Then I should send her a present.”

“I’m sure she’s going to love it; you’re Jieun’s favorite, after all.”

A glimpse of silk ribbons and dresses flashed before Jiyong’s eyes. “Now I know where you should take me to.”

“First of all, my work isn’t done yet until we pay a visit to our good old friend, Mr. Furnace. Secondly, you better wear your shades and stay hidden at the back because the sun’s rising and we’re heading eastward.”

“Roger that,” Jiyong muttered, fixing the position of the shades on the bridge of his nose before closing his eyes. The familiar darkness greeted him as he made a plan inside his head, deciding where he should go to, only to no avail. _It’s going to be the same anyway_ , a sigh slipped out, his lower lip jutted out in a pout. _Trying to blend in, avoiding any suspicion, making money, blah blah blah…._ Jiyong fixed his position, one arm folded under his head. The other hand stretched out, the tip of his gloved fingers tried to touch the ceiling.

But time must have sprinted because the moment when Jiyong could feel the surface looming over him beneath his black leather glove, Youngbae’s face popped out from the corner of his vision, demanding the vampire to help him pull the corpse from underneath the backseat. Jiyong didn’t leave the truck, though; rather, he watched Youngbae dragging the body effortlessly, each of his steps brought him towards a figure Jiyong wasn’t familiar with. Youngbae returned in about 30 minutes later and soon, the truck joined the growing line of vehicles.

Jiyong raised his body, sitting with his back straight, once a tiny piece of memory hit his consciousness without warning. “Youngbae, what year is it?”

“It’s 2017. Why?”

 _Twenty years, huh?_ “You’re going back to Seoul, aren’t you?” A small nod showed nothing but an affirmation. “Guess I can give my present to Jieun myself.”

“Seoul, it is,” Youngbae whistled, one hand reached for an iPod sitting quietly on the dashboard. A moment later, music took over the silence.

Jiyong gulped down an invisible lump inside his throat. _Twenty years…_ he mused, staring at the nothingness resting atop his right palm. A weak flicker began to burn inside his mind, full of tiny hopes he secretly wished—

A shout cut through the white noise engulfing Jiyong. “The fuck, man?!??” Youngbae shot a sharp glare reflected by the rearview mirror, pulling up abruptly; his voice was thick with panic. “Are you planning to burn my car?!!?”

Jiyong blinked, following the direction of Youngbae’s eyes were staring at. Lowering his head, a sphere of flame as wide as Jiyong’s open hand was dancing, burning in various shades of amber. Confusion swelling in his head was quickly replaced by admiration as Jiyong brought the fire closer to his face, indulging in the odd sensation that grew stronger the closer the spere. A heavy gasp escaped his mouth after a wispy thread of fire left an odd sensation on his cheek, its thin tail touched a tiny patch of his skin. His gloved hand closed upon the contact, the flame disappeared at once.

None of them uttered any single word, except for the faceless singer whose voice had eventually faded into air, loaded with tension. Jiyong’s lips parted, streaks of frown creasing his forehead following the return of bewilderment inside his head. He lifted his gaze, catching the movement of Youngbae’s mouth. “What?” The frown on his face deepened.

“—r skin!” The words rolled out from from Youngbae’s open mouth. “You just burnt your skin, Jiyong!” A look of perplexity inside his widened eyes met Jiyong’s, which quickly darted to the reflection of his own face.

A bright red streak – probably no longer than the width of his pinky – almost met his scar. The vampire hastily discarded the glove from his right hand, hesitantly brought one finger to that one particular spot. Youngbae’s stare was still fixed on Jiyong’s face, and the oddly painful sting returned. However, once Jiyong’s finger touched his own skin, he finally noticed that the pain didn’t come from the way Youngbae watching him in confusion.

The finger pressing the patch of skin was burning. _Hot_ , the emotion swirling inside Jiyong was a combination of wonder and disbelief. _It feels hot_. An imaginary vision emerging in front of him was the image of young boy staring at the bright fire, cracks cutting though the silence as the flame burnt the logs. _It feels…hot_.

Feel – a word that tasted foreign in Jiyong’s tongue.

 

*

 

The rest of the drive was spent in a total silence. Words were only exchanged when deemed necessary and Jiyong was fully aware of the glance Youngbae occasionally sent to him. The burning sting eventually faded as the time went by, leaving no trace to accompany the existing scar marring Jiyong’s face. Something was twisting his inside, its claws scraped Jiyong’s backbone.

And it was already noon when the vampire noticed the bustling life outside the confinement of Youngbae’s truck – the swarm of cars surrounded them, riding along the busy highway. “We’re entering Seoul,” announced Youngbae, his lips quirked. Jiyong responded with a silent nod, yet his eyes, shielded behind the tinted lenses, didn’t tear from the lines of vehicle before him. He leaned forward, his chest met the back of passenger seat; he maintained the same sitting position until the truck finally pulled in. The other male turned around, asking, “Are you going to come with me? Daesung probably can help you with your… fever.”

Jiyong shook his head lightly and grabbed the umbrella from the passenger seat. “He’s probably still pissed off after what I did and I still haven’t bought anything for Jieun. Tomorrow, perhaps.” Although he wasn’t sure; it was a strange mix of feeling churning his stomach upon seeing how both familiar and unfamiliar the sight before him. Jiyong stood under his umbrella, as black as his outfit, watching the passers-by striding in a hastened pace under the shade the tall buildings flanking the busy street provided – Youngbae promised to have his belongings delivered to wherever he decided to stay on the evening. His mind was already occupied by one fragment from his past, the one that had brought him back to the city he had left behind 20 years ago.

What just happened during the drive earlier blurred, blending with other pieces long forgotten on the darkest corner of Jiyong’s memory.

The spring breeze caressed his face gently as he joined the crowd, taking a peculiar pleasure in mingling into the humming life roaming the city – sure, the absence of beating heart between his two lungs wouldn’t be noticed… or so that what Jiyong wished to believe. But it didn’t matter as for now because the first time after two decades, he was finally _home_.

Sure, he could sense the weird stare people gave him and see how far the place he used to live in for a long time had transformed with his own eyes. After all, 20 years were not a short period of time for humans. A tiny shred of his past snuck in Jiyong’s consciousness, and suddenly, he felt… alive.

Alive – a word that immediately tasted repugnant in Jiyong’s tongue.

He would have always remembered every inch of the city by heart. Along with the air entering his lungs, the tiny piece of his memory had turned into a living mental image adorned with vivid colors and sharp details splashing behind his eyelids. All the changes throughout the decades appeared as nothing but a mere façade, for what the essence the buzzing city had been holding would always remain the same.

Seoul would always be the place where his ending met his beginning, where a string of hope entwined his great loss, where life finally saw the face of the death. It was the beginning -- the Genesis.

And rising before him was his Garden of Eden, an apartment building which root growing deep into the concrete field. It stood before him like a nightmare looming above his head from time to time. Changes barely touched the building and it tightened the grip inside his stomach. Jiyong breathed in the air, his ears twitched upon the sound of drumming heartbeat surrounding him. When he closed his eyes, he could hear a screaming ricocheted off the wall like a bullet. The muscles on his face tightened as he closed his umbrella and put his right foot in front of the other, striding towards the lobby before heading straight to the lift.

The compartment was empty. The door was closing when Jiyong turned around, sliding excruciatingly slowly. A few seconds before the panels met in the middle, Jiyong’s eyes landed on a figure dashing past the lift – a figure which might mean nothing for it belonged to any stranger. However, a fleeting moment was enough for the vampire to recognize the face that lingered in his field of vision temporarily, and the face soon formed into a crystal-clear image floating in front of him. “ _Vengeance isn’t always the answer, Jiyong._ ”

A flame flickered, its tail invited Jiyong to join its reckless dance. The blaze exploded, overwhelming Jiyong with a surge of heat. It was—

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**2**

 

 ** _The dark accompanied the fire_** burning the crackling logs, emanating heat to warm the space. But Jiyong knew better that it wasn’t what _he_ sought for – the heat or the light, none of them mattered – and the other figure he was still eyeing remained unmoved from his chair. The back of the head was everything Jiyong could see, an expanse of darkness forming a silhouette of human merging into that of a chair, and the latter quietly fixed his potion, leaning on the wooden wall of the small cabin.

Jiyong scoffed, a huff of air escaping his nostrils. _Human?_

Minutes passed with no sound except for the crackling noises – a music to accompany the dancing fire. Jiyong breathed in the air and tasted a faded scent of blood, inviting a growl rumbling from the base of his throat. _Patience…_ Lowering is gaze, Jiyong caught the warm golden splash of the flame showering his claws. He hummed, admiring how beautiful the sight was and imagining how they’d look once they were dipped in crimson red. The corner of his mouth curled and his eyes widened as a distinct surge of thrill ran down his spine. _Patience…_

Another voice tore the silence, speaking in a heavy tone with a disturbing hint of void in each word. “Someone comes for blood.”

Jiyong threw his gaze back to the silhouette, still not noticing any sign of movement except for the illusion the flame and shadow casted. He flicked the tip of his two claws together – the smirk refused to leave his face.

“However,” the faceless figure slightly tipped his head to the left before the time, once again, froze around him, “ _whose_ blood will it be?”

And before Jiyong could open his mouth, a gush of wind hit his chest. His body flied across the cabin before knocking down the wall. The smell of grass against Jiyong’s face blended with the scent of blood he coughed up – splashes of red on green melting as one under the darkness of moonless night’s sky, thickened as the other figure grew closer. The pain from the blow landed on his chest eventually dissipated and Jiyong was still coughing up blood when he raised his body, his stance was slightly off because of the loss of balance.

Two emerald green eyes with silver-colored slit in the middle flickered in his field of view – the very next second, a set of fingers gripped his neck, a tight clench kept the screaming from escaping Jiyong’s mouth. Jiyong clawed at the cold hand, a desperate attempt not because of the lack of air – both knew that they no longer needed it to sustain their live – but because of the instinctive defense mechanism. A finger, the tip of its talon dug into the left of Jiyong’s chest. Jiyong jerked his flailing body even more frantically as fear took over his consciousness, pushing wordless empty air out his parted lips. The rope of crimson gushed down the wound as the claw pushed deep and deeper through the layer of muscles. It was only one millimeter away between the tip and Jiyong’s heart when the emerald eyes dimmed, replaced by two dark orbs reflecting nothing but an eternal abyss. The grip around Jiyong’s neck loosened, yet the amount of pressure was still more than enough to keep his body off the ground.

Jiyong’s lips trembled, probably from how the thick cold air surrounding them thickened, probably from the depth of emptiness staring back at him. Words began to form in his head, yet they were still unable to go past the lips.

“Death is too… merciful,” the callous words cut through the stiff atmosphere. He flashed Jiyong the finger dipped in the dark substance of Jiyong’s blood, the absence of expression on the face remained the same. “And I ensure that you’ll remember this, _child_.”

Eyes widened in horror as Jiyong watched the lips moved, muttering hushed words spoken in a language Jiyong couldn’t recognize. The blood staining the finger – _his_ blood – glowed in a sickening splash of silver, and the next thing he could sense was the pain coming from the right side of his head, burning him from the inside; the excruciating pain felt as if his head was about to split into two. Darkness swiftly reclaimed his mind, yet it wasn’t quick enough for the last words to slip into Jiyong’s consciousness.

A low voice coming from a void crept into the darkest corner of his memory, settled in a form of a grinning shadow, and whispered, “Find him. Bring him.”

And with a quiet thud, his body met the ground once again. The other figure had vanished into thin air and all that was left for Jiyong was the obscured picture of a wood cabin in a forest. The wind brought the rustling melody from the trees, singing about his defeat along with the sound of nocturnal animals. The burning sensation in his head had transformed into a pounding pain that dragged his mind away from his helpless arm, desperately reaching for the thin air.

The suddenly, the light flooded Jiyong’s vision, followed by a soft whisper “Uncle?” A pair of dark round eyes floated before him.

The said male didn’t mutter anything; the bright light contracted his pupils and he quickly pulled his arm to shade his face. He still could see the darkness of the eyes glued at him, giving him a stare full of curiosity, yet it was a different kind of darkness this time – it was a spark rather than a bottomless pit reflected behind the black surface.

Jiyong must be dreaming again, although the faint sting of pain on the right side of his head seemed to disagree. A long, heavy sigh grazed his lips.

“Uncle?” The other eyes blinked and Jiyong immediately noticed the fringes scattered across the forehead – strands of hair dipped in the matching lustrous shade of black shining even brighter under the glow of ceiling light. The facial features forming the face finally materialized into one Jiyong recognized.

He forced a smile as his free arm reached for the head, tousling the fringes gently. “Hello, Jieun.”

A quiet noise filled in the silence momentarily as the girl fixed her position, her folded knees brushed against the bed sheet. The tips of her hair, cascading down over her shoulders, barely grazed Jiyong’s face when she lowered her head a little. “Were you dreaming?”

“Yes,” Jiyong murmured; the uncertainty tainted his answer. He raised his body, using an elbow to prop himself up, only to be pushed down back to the bed by a hand pressed against his chest.

“No,” Jieun’s head shook lightly. “He’s told me that you should rest until he’s back.”

“And to finally stab a dagger through my heart? There’s no way I’m going to let Daesung do that, Jieun.” The vampire snickered.

The black locks fluttered as the girl shook her head once again. “No, not Father.” Jiyong frowned – not only because of the way Jieun referring Daesung as her ‘father’ still disturbs him, but also because of a slight curiosity that hit him. However, the girl repeated, “It’s _him_ ,” in a hushed tone. The knocking on the door soon averted her attention before Jiyong could ask her about who ‘he’ was.

A familiar voice joined in. “Is he awake now?” Jieun nodded to the question, smiling widely when Youngbae patted her head as the human walked past her.

“Youngbae,” Jiyong grunted once his eyes found the other man who sat on the edge of the bed, opposite of Jieun. “Why am I here?”

Youngbae slightly turned his body, meeting Jiyong’s eyes over his shoulder. “Well… I assume you remember nothing?”

The streaks of frown on the male vampire’s forehead deepened. “I was in a… lift?” Youngbae, however, only cocked his eyebrows. “I was in a lift and...” Jiyong’s eyes landed on the empty white ceiling, avoiding Youngbae’s look. “And when I woke up, I was already… _here_ ,” the last word was voiced as a low mutter under his breath, yet it was clear enough for both Youngbae and Jieun to hear.

None of them showed any change in their expression – it was expected from Jieun, who seemed to be engrossed in her own mind without breaking her stare, yet Jiyong didn’t expect to see the lack of reaction from the human, whose gaze didn’t falter. However, the very next moment when Youngbae finally responded him, it didn’t make Jiyong feel less uneasy; the man, in his ever calm composure, popped the question. “And why were you in a lift that _happened_ to be at the apartment you used to live at?”

Jiyong opened his mouth, yet his brain couldn’t pass him any word to answer the question. Youngbae’s small eyes gave him a look that felt almost like they could pierce two holes through Jiyong’s skull to excavate an answer the vampire tried to keep to himself.

The male heaved a sigh. His fingers ran across his hair, pushing the brown colored locks away from his face. “Jiyong,” his voice was softer, although the demanding tone remained, “I didn’t come as fast as I could to haul your body here for nothing. At least, give me an honest answer so I can help you because given the extent of damage you’ve caused, Daesung won’t be _pleased_ to know that you do _not_ appreciate my help – _his_ help. And for the record, you would’ve _burnt_ the building down,” Youngbae glared at him meaningfully, emphasizing the word ‘burnt’, “if only there was no preventive measure.”

Jiyong shifted his gaze to Jieun’s long hair, dark black contrasting the pastel blue cotton dress she was wearing. The girl still hadn’t moved an inch, and her stare still hadn’t left him.

“There,” Jiyong cleared his throat, “there was a… an explosion. And fire.” He glanced to see curiosity shimmering even brighter in Jieun’s dark eyes.

“Was it like the—”

“Yes,” the male vampire cut the question curtly. Silence stretched, yet it was oddly too loud to Jiyong, who was still in sort of a staring competition with the ceiling. It felt almost forever, even for the immortal creature like him, when the quietness was finally broken – he couldn’t hide the sigh of relief, which made Youngbae raise his eyebrows.

However, the male human didn’t mentioned it. The weigh from one side of the bed vanished as Youngbae stood, turning and walking towards the door. “Daesung’s still tending some businesses right now and will be back around dinner time – well, _human_ ’s dinner time, of course.”

Jiyong only nodded, still avoiding the other male’s gaze.

“Jieun?” The said girl blinked upon hearing the mention of her name. “Since we all know that Jiyong’s fine, let him rest until your father’s back, okay?”

The girl slightly tilted her head, biting her own lower lip as she was pondering. Jiyong caught a glimpse of her fangs before Jieun leaned in closer and landed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Wishing you speedy recovery, Uncle.” And her smile was the last thing Jiyong saw before the girl disappeared with a gentle breeze.

 

*

 

Youngbae’s face popped out once the door swung open after three knocks, informing Jiyong that he was invited to the dining table. Jiyong only murmured his ‘yes’ and closed the magazine he had been reading – if ‘reading’ meant scanning the same sentence over and over again as his mind cut through the quiet air surrounding him, trying to understand what happened to him. Unsurprisingly, he found no answer from the silence, so that he ended up returning his focus to the magazine in his hand only to repeat the same cycle.

A familiar wheeze came from behind him when Jiyong’s hand was already on the door knob. Only in a moment, the vague silhouette materialized fully in a form of the smaller female vampire. Her long black hair was tied, white ribbon wrapped around the ponytail. Jieun smiled her sweet smile – the kind of smile where no teeth were shown so the thin line between the lips formed a perfect arch, each end curled upwards – and approached the male in a light spring. The ponytail bounced playfully, the skirt of the satin lavender dress she was wearing whirled in every step she made.

“Hi, Jieun. Happy belated birthday.” Jiyong replied the smile and nudged the tip of the girl’s nose fondly, earning him a soft giggle that widened Jiyong’s smile. The sight made him forget that the girl standing before him, one head shorter than him, was actually 78 years old when she looked as if she was still 17 – the age when she was turned. “I’m sorry for the lack of any proper birthday gift, but I’ll bring one for you tomorrow.”

Jieun shook her head and walked out of the room after Jiyong pulled the door open. “It’s okay, Uncle. I’m already content with meeting you today, even having a dinner together,” she linked her arm with Jiyong’s and together, they walked side by side towards the end of the corridor, which opened to a large living area.

The spacious room was adorned with the sight of artificial light spreading across the Seoul’s landscape seen through the large, expanding glass window – Jiyong knew better that the thick blackout curtains would be pulled to the sides only when the sun set. White dominated the space, contrasted by the sleek black and earthy brown against the clean background – a typical modern design style with clean and sharp lines, where the fluidity of organic shapes added curves to smoothen the crisp look. Both of them continued walking leisurely towards the black doors; its golden handles gleamed under the warm lighting from the wall sconces.

A male sitting at the head of the table with Youngbae on his left immediately spotted him even before the male vampire entered the dining room. His black hair shared the same shine with Jieun’s, glowing under the golden light coming from the chandelier hanging over the table. His small eyes narrowed, following Jiyong’s movement, and there was a subtle twitch on the tip of his thick lips. Daesung obviously was _still_ pissed off.

Jiyong smirked, nodding at Youngbae and replying the glare sent to him in the least subtle way while approaching the table. It was a smaller room with a rectangular wood table to seat eight people. Each chair was covered by velvet upholstery – this time, it was deep purple with silver accent. The color combination was echoed by the flower centerpiece and a runner arranged neatly on the table. The room was decorated more elaborately and the ornate on the wood clearly suggested the older style, contrasting the modern living room Jiyong just left earlier.

The atmosphere was brightened by Jieun, who practically threw herself to her father. “Father!” she exclaimed, her arms were around the man’s shoulder as she pulled the other body into a hug.

Daesung’s attention was soon shifted to the girl, pressing a kiss on her cheek lovingly. “How’s my girl been doing while I was outside? Did you behave well?”

Jieun replied with a kiss on the man’s cheek before releasing him from her hug, plopping down into the chair on his right. Jiyong quietly pulled the one next to the girl and sat down. “Surely I did, Father. You can ask Youngbae Uncle! But, wait…” She straightened her back, scanning the room. “Why are you alone, Father? Where’s he?”

And that was when Daesung seemed to finally remember about Jiyong’s presence in the room; his sharp stare returned to the vampire, whose smile hadn’t faltered from his face. “Well, it pains me a little knowing how you’re looking forward to see him, Sweetheart,” his remark made Jieun snickered. “He’ll join us later, Jieun. But now, let’s enjoy our dinner first, shall we?”

Youngbae quietly stood and left the room. A moment later, he returned from the kitchen with a bar cart, where a bottle of wine and three plates of dish perching on the top tier. Carefully, he poured the drink to all four glasses and served the dishes to everyone but Jiyong, and the sight only pushed a small mocking laugh out of Jiyong’s throat – none of them in the room, except for Youngbae, actually _needed_ food or wine. However, Daesung had grown accustomed to certain habit he didn’t wish to break even though the blood inside his veins had been frozen and the heart inside his chest had stopped beating for more than a century. And Jiyong, knowing how much he hated to retch the substance later, had clearly stated that he preferred to refuse any human food offered to him – even when Daesung was in a good mood – right from the first moment he stepped into the penthouse more than 15 years ago.

But wine… it was an exception. It was _fine_ , because he learnt that his body somewhat resisted almost any liquid substance really well, although it would never be the alternative to blood. So, being a polite guest he was, Jiyong raised the glass and smirked even wider when the drink entered his body – his eyes didn’t waver even before Daesung’s angry glare.

With the exception of how the interior of room was designed, there was nothing about the dinner that seemed formal at all. From years of knowing the other male vampire, Jiyong knew that he preferred spending every dinner time in silence, accompanied by nothing but the quiet clanking of cutleries meeting porcelain. The boredom grew only stronger in each passing second, and Jiyong wished that he hadn’t chosen to stay in the room earlier.

However, Jiyong also knew that he couldn’t just waltz out of the residence, especially if he wished to know what was actually going on with him. The reason was simple: he suddenly found out that he had a fire issue – twenty hours hadn’t passed yet since the appearance of a flaming sphere out of thin air, and it was no more than ten hours ago when he seemed to explode inside the lift of the apartment building he used to live at 20 years ago. He could sense that Daesung had an answer – or at least a lead or two – to help him and if Jiyong didn’t wish to have Daesung turning his back on him, he should _stay_.

Unfortunately, Jiyong had never been meant to be patient. Yet luckily, Youngbae seemed to notice the depth of frown across the vampire’s face. Their eyes met somewhere along the way and before Jiyong signaled the only human in the room, Youngbae had quietly put his knife and fork down on the plate, where the chunk of steak was left half eaten. Jiyong glanced at the other vampires, who soon halted their dining. Jieun – after kissing Daesung and Jiyong good night – and Youngbae left the room a moment after.

Another silence crept into the room, full of unspoken questions this time. Jiyong shifted on the chair, his finger rubbed the empty glass perching on the table quietly. Somehow, the other vampire avoided his eyes, unlike what he had been doing nearly throughout his dinner. The impatience now tugged him way harder, words began to form inside his head. However, before Jiyong could break the silence, Daesung did it first.

“Youngbae told me you’ve got fever,” the man’s voice was low, each word was enunciated matter-of-factly. Well, what did Jiyong expect anyway? No matter how good his relationship with Youngbae was, Daesung remained his employer – it was clear to whom the human pledged his loyalty. “And you, out of the blue, could generate a fire ball which somewhat could _cut_ you.”

There was the urge to nudge the spot where the fire stung his face earlier, yet Jiyong managed to resist it. He simply nodded to affirm.

“How fast did you heal from the cut?” The look in Daesung’s eyes was nothing but inquiring.

“The cut was maybe only one centimeter long and it disappeared immediately. It felt…”

“Painful?”

“Yes. It… burnt.”

The older vampire didn’t say anything, although his eyes spoke louder amidst the quiet filling in the dining room. He merely keeping his stare at Jiyong, scrutinizing him with his hands on the table, forming a triangle before the fingers eventually treaded. Again, when Jiyong was about speak, the other had cut him. “And then, once you arrived in Seoul for the first time after two decades, you decided that it was a good idea to pay a visit to your _past_.”

The words, especially the last one that escaped from Daesung’s gritted teeth, were full of accusation. In a different occasion, Jiyong would’ve quickly spat and warned Daesung to mind his own business, but it was clearly no ‘different occasion’ so Jiyong, again, only nodded.

“You were in a lift,” Daesung’s fingers tapped the back of his own hands, “when you, once again, saw fire coming from _you_.” Jiyong’s head moved up and down once. “How did it feel? Did it burn you too?”

This time, Jiyong took time to answer. He drew his gaze to the water lilies forming a table centerpiece before him. “Yes and… no. Rather than burning, it felt hot, though. I’m sorry, I can’t really remember because it seemed like I fainted immediately.”

For the first time, the expression on Daesung’s face was distorted by a sign of doubt – the corner of his lips twitched as his eyes turned smaller. “Well, apparently it wasn’t _immediate_ enough because you probably would’ve set the building on fire if he didn’t notice you faster.”

Jiyong ignored the bitterness of sarcasm slipping out the other man’s lips, keeping it from affecting him. And for the third time, he was cut even before he could utter any single word.

“Anything else? Something you, for some stupid reason, didn’t tell Youngbae?”

Jiyong’s answer came a little too quick. “Nothing.”

The look of doubt still floated inside Daesung’s eyes. However, even if he had a slight of suspicion, Jiyong was grateful that the other vampire didn’t try to pry any further. “There’s someone you should meet. But first, answer this _honestly_ , Jiyong.” The older vampire raised his body off the chair and turned, his steps were muffled by the carpet covering the floor. “After your turning,” Jiyong could feel the fingers ghosted across his shoulder, “did you stay with your maker? Maybe for a year or two?”

“No.” A fragment from his past splashed before Jiyong – an empty apartment, a strange twinge of excitement coursing through his body, a note on the refrigerator, and a bunch of stolen boxed blood before he leaped into the darkness of the night. He mockingly laughed at the images of his young self in his head. _Oh, you poor, naïve little child…_

“Did you ever learn about your potentials with your maker?” Daesung’s voice seemed to come from the past, long forgotten.

“No.”

The muffled footsteps resumed and faded once Daesung reached the door. Jiyong turned his head to find that the other figure had disappeared, yet the door was left ajar. He heard him, though; Daesung’s words were barely audible but Jiyong could clearly tell that there was someone else outside the room – it wasn’t Youngbae or Jieun, for sure. The vampire could manage to hear one word or two, yet the essence of the conversation remained vague, so he stopped trying to eavesdrop and tapped the empty glass absentmindedly.

Jiyong had no idea why he didn’t tell Daesung about him seeing a glimpse of his maker for a split second – before the doors of the lift slid closed, before he was ablaze.

A set of muffled footstep entered the dining room and Jiyong quickly noticed that he didn’t recognize the tread this time. With a knot between his eyebrows, the vampire turned his gaze towards the door only to find another vampire before his eyes. But it was no Daesung as he was nowhere to be seen. Yet, the figure standing only a few steps from here was an image too familiar to him.

How could Jiyong ever forget the face, which he believed he just saw only a few hours before? A pair of brown eyes met Jiyong’s dark ones and widened, wavered in… _Surprise?_ Jiyong felt a tight knot inside his stomach. _Guilt?_ Images flashing before his eyes, overwhelming him with a mix of feeling – the bitterness left a repulsive aftertaste that didn’t last long once it was replaced by something _stronger_ , something _deadlier_. Oh how much Jiyong wished to see the other immortal standing in front of him shattered into pieces and turned into ashes, his remnants were soon forgotten once the wind blew, so that he would never be haunted by the ghost of his anymore – a ghost that kept whispering words each and every time Jiyong was lost in the poisonous memory of when he crossed the line that had always been keeping him a part of the world of humans.

It was a mere spark at first, flickering and threatening every being – mortal and immortal alike – to stay out of his way. The haze entering his lungs fanned the glimmer, growing big and bigger in each passing second. The time seemed to freeze inside the room, the atmosphere was laden with tension that grew thicker. In a flash, red crept into the darkest night as shades of amber blasted from the hollowness inside Jiyong’s chest. But the very second before the fire shot, the sting of cold pierced through his skin like the thinnest needles – he could feel it, yet he couldn’t seem quite place it came from – along with the quiet whisper, thick with emotions Jiyong couldn’t comprehend aside from the bitterness that soon evaporated into thin air:

“ _I’m sorry._ ”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made changes to the ending of chapter 2. also, i'd like to thank those who're still around, reading this story, although i know how much people usually hate platonic romance between their OTP. enjoy!

 

**3**

To be truthfully honest, Seungri didn’t know _why_. Everything he had prepared, all the things he had wished to say… it was all for naught; it was nothing but the tiniest speck of dust compared to the figure standing before him. He hoped that he could translate the look in the eyes – two droplets painted in the darkest shade of the night – yet he knew that he needed to be careful what he wished for.

And oh he _always_ needed to.

It was the same look he gazed into the very same eyes so many years ago, the one that shot him nothing but heat and anger, blazing the strongest and the brightest. To finally see it once again, Seungri suddenly wondered what kind of rage to fuel the fire… for _whom_ the fury burning the flame was. A ridiculous question, indeed, for the answer was obvious. However, Seungri had always been lost in the pitch-black eyes, for each time he closed his eyes, every day and night, the flame had always been splashing behind his eyelids.

Right there, right now, when the ghost haunting the furthest corner of his memory was finally manifested in its physical, actual form, Seungri couldn’t help but feel the stab through his chest – it felt far ghastlier than any form of torture his body had ever gone through during his hundreds of years walking on earth. From his memory, the drumming noise filled his head although he knew –with an immense amount of regret piercing his dead heart, he _knew_ – that the heart inside Jiyong’s chest could no longer create the sound.

He had been dreading the day when he finally should face a piece from his past he regretted the most, the one that always overwhelmed with self-loathing. But earlier in the afternoon, the opportunity struck him in the least expected way as a glimpse of Jiyong’s face flashed before him when Seungri was walking past the lift. He saw shades of amber engulfing the vampire, and for a moment, Seungri stopped for a second to admire the sight – Jiyong had always been the rage-fueled flame to him, setting anything that got in his way on fire. But something quickly pounded the door of his consciousness, screaming danger. And the next thing Seungri did was breaking through the metal plates and brought the flaring body as fast as he could, keeping it under the coldness of his arms. Youngbae arrived with Jieun right after he sent his signal – Seungri, for the first time, felt _lucky_ to be a psychic.

Seungri opened his mouth; whatever word that went past his lips was never meant to be heard as the screaming pushing from Jiyong’s lungs came along with the surge of heat. Once again, Seungri leaped to embrace the blaze under his arms – only this time, he could finally do one thing he had always wanted to, whispering words he had been keeping at the tip of his tongue:

“ _I’m sorry_.”

The heated atmosphere in the room was yet to change and the body under Seungri’s arms still trembled; the splashes of amber danced slowly yet menacingly, sending painful sting throughout his body. He wouldn’t lie – Jiyong burnt him, leaving red painting patches of his skin, growing darker in each passing second, just like how he did to him in the afternoon. But the younger vampire wasn’t the only one with power in the room.

The air brushing Seungri’s lips was covered in frost, tiny sparkling white flakes floating in the emptiness for a moment before surrendering to the gravity, unaffected by the haze emanated from Jiyong’s body as they kissed the shoulder. The muscles inside Seungri’s body stiffened, a blast of ice spreading from the hole inside his chest to form a thin layer of icy blue on the area damaged by the fire, disappearing once it achieved its purpose. Another blow of wind rolling out Seungri’s lips contained droplets of frost, gliding down Jiyong’s body smoothly as if they were oblivious to the heat.

Seungri released Jiyong and took a step behind, keeping the distance and watching the frost began to develop across Jiyong’s chest. The area occupied by Jiyong’s heart was painted in blue, a contrast against the burning reds, oranges, and yellows. Seungri raised his hand, his palm pressed against the other’s chest without forcing too much pressure – a mere touch and that was enough to bring quiet in the room, silencing Jiyong from his screaming. A quiet crackling sound disrupt the momentary silence once the ice began to cover the rests of Jiyong’s body, forming a similar layer of ice crystal.

With a controlled breathing, Seungri inhaled the heat haze and exhaled the frosted white mist. Patience was always the key; if he let go too soon, the fire would quickly rush back and blast bigger and hotter, causing more damages Daesung surely wouldn’t appreciate. After all, everything on earth had always dreamt of freedom, and the flame hiding inside Jiyong’s chest was no exception – something Seungri should’ve realized a long time ago.

His eyes fell on the empty stare the shiny pools of obsidian gave him, and a surge of regret came overwhelming him over and over again. “I’m sorry…” The whisper escaped his trembling lips, watching as the flicker inside Jiyong’s eyes fading into the absolute darkness. He ended the contact, taking all the cold away from Jiyong’s body. The latter, still unconscious, immediately fell into Seungri’s arms once again.

“ _I’m sorry_.”

And that, probably and hopefully, was the answer to his _why_.

 

*

 

It didn’t take long for Seungri to hear whispers about Jiyong’s loss: a _young_ vampire – a _baby_ , they whispered with an obvious hint of disgust and disbelief – trying to take down one of the oldest, strongest, and most dangerous of its kind? Seungri didn’t even bother himself with the names, for it was more than enough to alarm him about what fate he had brought to Jiyong the exact moment he fed on his blood, cutting the only tie that kept Jiyong from being anything but immortal. How the story ended was something predictable, yet it was something worth to talk about nonetheless. Apparently, immortals still found gossiping a source of entertainment.

While others kept saying that it was the younger’s foolishness and recklessness that brought him his defeat – _Jiyong_ ’s defeat – Seungri couldn’t help but feel a blade piercing through his chest every time the words reached his ear… a stab close enough to let crimson red seeping out from the open wounds, yet not enough to bring the long-awaited death to end him. Without anyone knowing, the vampire knew better what to blame, or _who_. And that was a cross for him to bear, a constant reminder of his mistake in the past.

Hours had passed and Jiyong was still unconscious after the small incident in the dining quarter earlier. Seungri brought him back to the same bedroom with Daesung’s permission and hadn’t left since, sitting at the corner across the bed and watching the other in silence. The male didn’t expect to see Jiyong awake within the next hours – if what Daesung had told him was true, then Jiyong had unleashed the fire three times only in less than 24 hours.  And if Seungri didn’t misunderstand the circumstance, he was most likely the one triggering the last two explosions.

The room was left dark except for the light coming from a lamp perching on the bedside table. The golden light flushing Jiyong’s face illuminated the features, casting shadows in every crook the light unable to reach. Seungri leaned his back on the chair, letting the tangled thoughts inside his head floating aimlessly in the empty air surrounding him. His gaze didn’t cease to stray away from the figure before him, the chest moved up and down in a constant pace with every breath entering and exiting his lungs. It was a sight Seungri found no longer familiar anymore, especially when it was another vampire who was lying unconsciously in front of him – it looked too… human.

Now that fate had let them collide once again, Seungri was fully aware that it was only the beginning – and he dared himself not to think of what this re-encounter might lead to. Invisible fingers were threading amidst the tangled thoughts, trying to undo them one by one. Priorities needed to be set straight, and the male knew what would be his starting point. However, Seungri would need Jiyong to wake up first, and whatever might happen once the latter regain his consciousness was a matter to be minded later.

A presence behind the door broke the vampire’s focus and Seungri almost released a mentally-projected dagger if only the familiar voice didn’t keep him from doing so. _Chill, it’s only me._ After three knocks on the door, the lock clicked open and the door swung open, revealing the face of a male human Seungri could still clearly see under the dim light in the room. “You’re still so tense, Seungri.”

The vampire only shrugged, keeping his eyes glued to Youngbae who casually walked to the other corner of the chamber, leaning his back against the wall with his arms crossed on his chest.

“It’s kind of hurting me, you know?” Youngbae’s figure was hidden amidst the shadow in the room, yet it wasn’t difficult for Seungri to imagine a small smirk on his face as the vampire’s stare returned to Jiyong. “After all the years being your milkman… How can you find my thought unfamiliar to you?”

“And you know how I still appreciate all your works and deliveries you’ve done, Youngbae,” Seungri’s voice hung low – a slight fear that any noise would wake Jiyong up nudged him. “But as you’ve made it clear: I’m still pretty tense.”

“How’s he been?”

“Still unconscious. I suppose he’ll wake up at noon.”

“And shall we anticipate another fever? Or frostbite?”

Seungri wasn’t sure if the human could even see it, yet he shot him a glare nonetheless. “No,” his voice was sharp, mentally broadcasted to Youngbae who quickly uttered his apology.  “No. He’s still too weak to generate energy to unleash his fire, not after exploding two times in a row. Besides, his power’s still unstable. He’s exerted himself.”

“Doesn’t that mean I better prepare some boxes of juice for when he’s finally awake latter?”

“I’m about to ask you later, but I’ll be grateful if you’d do it sooner.” No word escaped Youngbae’s lips, yet he passed on his simple ‘ _you’re welcome_ ’ right to Seungri’s mind. The vampire shifted his position, feeling a little odd with what the brief answer vaguely hinted.

Silence, once again, stretched inside the room, leaving Jiyong’s soft breathing undisrupted. Seungri caught himself pondering once again, a plan he had prepared occupying the space inside his head. Everything sounded perfect after years and years spent to create it, yet the certainty he had in his mind had shattered into pieces not too long ago; in the end, imagining how Jiyong would react and seeing how it would actually go were indeed _two_ different things.

Seungri was beyond afraid – he was _terrified_.

“You know,” Youngbae’s whisper broke the silence; he held the door open as his small brown eyes glanced at the vampire over his shoulder, “I think both of you’ll be just fine. Just do whatever you can, take as much time as you’ll need; Jiyong isn’t as stubborn as he may seem.” His slender figure immediately disappeared behind the closed door, his presence faded from Seungri’s consciousness, although what the human left unsaid refused to leave him alone in his mind.

 

*

 

The eyes no longer shot dagger, yet it didn’t make the effect less painful to Seungri… not when Jiyong, sitting up on the bed with his back flat against the headboard, had been glaring at him for minutes and minutes that stretched almost like forever. Although, it wasn’t like Seungri would expect to receive less hostility after what had happened the day before.

A smudge of ruby red on the corner of Jiyong’s mouth quickly disappeared once the tongue dipped out, licking the tiny patch of skin clean. Seungri had requested for the freshest boxed bloods from Daesung’s stock – he was no longer a fan of pets although Daesung had kindly informed him that Jiyong wouldn’t mind any – so that Jiyong could replenish his energy faster. And Daesung, as always, never disappointed his client – especially the one with a record like Seungri’s – proudly claiming that the blood he provided that day was no older than a day.

Unconsciously, he trailed the right side of his own neck upwards, pressing the area where his mark was. Jiyong, apparently, also mimicked his gesture, and Seungri slowly lowered his hand, letting it rest on his own lap; Jiyong didn’t, though. Words were still coursing in Seungri’s mind, rushing towards his tongue, yet nothing managed to slip past the lips as each and each was swallowed back down into Seungri’s throat. The quiet probably would’ve lasted for the next forever after, if it wasn’t because of a raw, raspy voice cutting through the stillness.

“Is that where your mark is?” The tip of Jiyong’s finger was still on some spot under the base of his skull – Seungri remembered it was where he once buried his fangs into Jiyong’s skin, penetrating the vein where the blood, full of life, once streamed. Seungri nodded his affirmation curtly, his head moved up and down once before returning to the middle. “Who’s your maker?”

The question took Seungri by surprise, although he had no any idea what he should expect following the question anyway – perhaps another staring contest or an explosion of anger in form of screaming and cursing – and it left him wordless, completely baffled. Jiyong, either impatience or reading through the expression on his features, repeated the question without even any subtlest change in his tone.

“Who’s your maker?”

Seungri opened his mouth, yet it was nothing but a puff of air rolling out. Inside, pieces of memories inside his brain had gone beyond chaotic – all he knew was that he had been living way longer than any human could imagine, and even older than most of his kind. _Is it 200 years?_ The frown contorting his face deepened as his mind tried to look into the fragments from his past, long forgotten and sprawling across inside his head. Seungri could even vaguely recall how his turning was or what he felt the day he woke up with a dead heart, fangs, and a new kind of thirst to sate. However, the one who had sired him…

“He was… powerful. A little mean and too proud about his immortality, indeed, but he was one who preferred to move in the darkness and keep his contact with humans as minimum as possible, except for when he – _we_ – needed to hunt. Woods had always been his favorite place to live. He came from the same land as mine – well, _yours_ too.” Jiyong didn’t show any change of expression on his face, although his stare no longer felt burning as before. Seungri took it as his cue to continue. “I can’t recall his name, mainly because I left him a long time ago; even I can barely remember how he looked, the color of his eyes, how tall he was… Now, I even doubt myself if my maker was a male.”

Without breaking the stare, Jiyong grabbed another box of blood and stabbed it with a plastic straw – although the package looked utterly ridiculous the first time Daesung introduced it, it soon gained popularity among vampires working with humans so that they could avoid more suspicion. Needless to say, his business grew rapidly after this small innovation – and gulped the substance down his throat. A familiar scent of blood tickled Seungri’s nose, and from the faint smell alone Seungri knew the quality of the fluid. After all, with Daesung, you got what you paid, and Seungri didn’t pay a little this time.

“Did you live with your maker after your turning?” Jiyong’s voice, surprisingly, was calm.

“Yes. We lived together for some time, although as I’ve said, I can’t exactly remember for how long or where. However, I wasn’t the only one; there were others he had sired too… maybe two, or three?”

“Did he tell you to stay?” The stare beneath the pair of obsidian eyes had turned strangely cold, stirring a peculiar sensation clenching inside his stomach. “Or were you the one who wanted to?”

Seungri cleared his throat, wincing once he noticed how cold the air he sniffed in – the kind of cold different from what his own power was capable of creating. “No. He… he was the one telling me to stay.”

And there was nothing; Jiyong even had diverted his focus from Seungri as he closed his eyes, tipping his head upwards. It was only a faint line forming his mouth, between his pursed lips. Unlike when he was sleeping earlier with the sound of his breathing filling in the space, Jiyong looked less _human_ once he was awake, behaving like any vampire would do – this shouldn’t be a twist, given the fact that none of them were human,  yet Seungri still found the contrast oddly… surprising.

Jiyong’s voice was like a blade cutting through the silence, another cold stab through Seungri’s chest. “And why did you let me go?”

The haze had dissipated, revealing a clear image of something Seungri could translate into the one and only raw emotion hidden beneath layers of façade Jiyong had been wearing and showing him. It was no longer the same rage that finally ignited the flame he had left dormant for years, nor was it the similar desire to avenge the death of his family, as what Jiyong once told him forever ago. Rather, it was a taste of bitterness that apparently had coated every single blade stabbing his chest and a tiny drop of it was more than enough to cause an enormous amount of pain not even a silver one buried straight into his heart could ever compare.

To Jiyong, Seungri had abandoned him twenty years ago and it was the price he had to pay – _they_ had to pay.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

**4**

**_The quiet in the room_** was an invisible layer of tension molded in the thick atmosphere that felt almost suffocating, even though breathing was no longer a function his body served. A distinct taste of bitterness still lingered in his mouth, a different kind of anger in the words that had dissipated into the air a long time ago. The two droplets of darkness were still veiled by lids, keeping the outside world from entering Jiyong’s mind, yet Seungri could see the depth of the shade residing inside the eyes; it looked almost vivid, as if he could touch the surface with the tip of his finger.

The accusation was too raw to feel, translated in one simple question: “ _And why did you let me go?_ ” And Seungri couldn’t give his answer for his _old_ self was the one to answer it. Even so, even if it was his old self sitting on the same chair, Seungri knew better that it wasn’t like he had wanted to change Jiyong’s mind, nor was it like Jiyong would be willing to stay the night _it_ happened – they were two different creatures back then, each with a clear purpose in their own mind. However, fate wasn’t always kind and God was never merciful; and twenty years were more than enough for a change to happen, even if it meant intoxicating one’s body and soul with growing anger or assaulting one with guilt.

Seungri had figured out that he should – _needed_ to – take the blame and whether it was to sate the guilt clawing at his backbone ever since the words of Jiyong’s fall reached him was no longer a matter to be concerned about. The plan he had made during years and years of wondering when their path would ever crossed once again came across his mind, and if he truly needed to fix one mistake he had regretfully created, he would need Jiyong’s trust. And, of course, his consent.

“Jiyong,” white mist twirling out Seungri’s mouth, his low voice was barely distinguished amidst the silence engulfing them by ordinary humans. However, there was no doubt that the younger vampire had heard him calling his name. And much to Seungri’s relief, the two black eyes staring back at him no longer shot daggers – he took it as a good sign. “We both know that nothing will ever make up all those years,” Seungri dug his claws deeper into the armrests, “no matter how much I want to. Words will be of no use, and that means we – _I_ only have one option left.” The left of his chest stung him and Seungri could feel a blast of cold air filling up the empty hole inside. In his head, he started his ten second countdown without throwing his gaze away.

Jiyong’s stare, however, wavered for a moment as it glanced a little to the side. And by the time Seungri had counted to one, the other male asked, “Is that where… where the _thing_ comes from?”

Seungri lowered his head and watched the remaining blue on his chest fading into nothing, leaving him nothing but misty gray – the color of the shirt he was wearing. “Yes,” he cleared his throat. “Mostly yes.” Once he lifted his gaze, Jiyong’s eyes were already hidden behind the closed lids, again. Seungri felt his mouth opened, yet something inside him wordlessly told him that there would be time for more words later. He rose and grabbed the long black coat, padding towards the door without looking back. The door closed with a quiet thud behind him.

For now, he could only trust Jiyong to trust him, and Seungri had all the time in the world to wait for the answer.

 

*

 

Maybe it was only a moment, or maybe it had been days that stretched into years only in a blink of an eye – one thing for sure, time was ticking. Jiyong clicked his fangs out, feeling the tip digging deep into his lower lip, yet it was not deep enough to prick the soft skin. Right when the empty white ceiling rolled into his field of vision, a quiet rustling sound disrupted the whirlwind inside Jiyong’s mind and broke the silence in the room.

Jieun stepped out of the gentle gust of blurry peach, her eyes rounded with a glint of curiosity reflected on the bright brown surface. The girl settled on the empty space next to Jiyong, not minding the mess of empty blood boxes scattered across the bed, and sat with her knees up to his chest and arms wrapping around the legs. Dark black locks, contrasting the pale peach dress she was wearing, partly covered her face as she leaned and rested his head on her knees. For a moment, silence returned and engulfed the two inside its invisible embrace. It broke once their eyes finally met, and Jiyong couldn’t keep the smile from spreading on his lips, to which Jieun replied with the same amount of sincerity.

“Are you feeling better now?” The gaze in Jieun’s warm black eyes softened the moment a set of Jiyong’s fingers caressed her head gently, tousling her long dark hair.

The male tucked the strands to the back of the girl’s ear and patted the cheeks. “Yes, Jieun. Although I must apologize once again because I don’t think I can buy you the late birthday present as promised…”

Jieun’s head shook lightly, the smile on her face was yet to falter. “I’ve told you that it’s fine, Uncle. You need to rest, don’t you?”

More creases scrunched the clean bed sheet as Jiyong shifted his position, pulling his knees to his chest and mimicking Jieun’s position. “Yes, but I can’t stay here even for a little longer, considering the amount of stress I might’ve put on Daesung…” The smile on his face stretched into a grin, which incited a soft laughter escaping the female vampire’s own.

“Father won’t mind as long as I’m the one who ask him to let you stay, Uncle.”

“That’s a sweet offer, but I’m afraid that I’ve already had a place… reserved for me.” _Maybe_ , Jiyong tried to dismiss the strange feeling he could associate with doubt. _Yeah, maybe_.

The female’s lower lip jutted out, a small pout plainly expressed her disappointment and quickly vanished once Jiyong playfully tapped her forehead. Jieun giggled, squeezing her eyes tightly and shaking her head lightly as the male didn’t stop teasing her. And once her teeth trapped the finger in between, Jiyong’s chest was swelled up with laughter.

“You could’ve bitten me,” Jiyong slowly pulled his finger, wiping the saliva on his pants.

“No,” Jieun murmured, burying her face into her knees. “I don’t bite our kind unless Father tells me to, Uncle.”

The corner of Jiyong’s lips twitched almost automatically to hear the name rolling out the female’s tongue smoothly; Jieun’s fondness towards Daesung was no longer something unknown to anyone. It was contrary to Jiyong, whose feeling for his maker – _Seungri_ – bordered on anything but affection. Hell, he even barely knew about Seungri aside from the fact that he was a stranger Jiyong approached in the cold of one wintry night – an unexpected meeting that seemed to shed light on his road to vengeance. And now, the same stranger had been the one Jiyong couldn’t help but loathe for changing not only his mere façade, but also something deep inside him that had always been anchoring him to the world of mortals.

Of course, the little voice inside Jiyong’s head always found a way to tell him a different version of the story. It was spoken in a whisper of a hazy figure of a man that struck him both familiar and unfamiliar, lurking around the corner of his consciousness: “ _You’ve always been choosing the easier route: to hate and to foster the contempt_.” The silhouette would always disappear quickly, burnt to ashes, and the hushed words left Jiyong with nothing but two parts of him conflicting. Which side that emerged victorious had always been the same, although the shadow would always return over and over again, living an unending cycle of life inside the darkest corner of his mind.

And this time, the nameless figure returned yet it strangely remained quiet; it made Jiyong almost feel like having someone watching over him, the look in the eyes told him more than enough than any words could do. Jiyong tried to give the form a face; when Seungri’s features materialized inside his head, the silhouette suddenly was no longer faceless, nor was it nameless. Perhaps, it had always been Seungri inside his mind, the version of him Jiyong picked from _the_ night, where two gleaming brown eyes didn’t cease to look back at him amidst the stillness and darkness inside the chamber. Jiyong remembered soft lights intruding through the glass window and illuminating Seungri’s face.

Once upon a time, he found Seungri _beautiful_ in all his immortality.

“Uncle Jiyong, is he the one who turned you?”

Jiyong blinked, and Jieun’s round eyes staring at him fell into his vision. His lips parted, yet the gap remained only for a moment before they met somewhere in the middle. A small nod was the only answer Jiyong gave, to which the female vampire acknowledge with a small smile on her lips. Jieun raised one of her arms, her fingers threaded through Jiyong’s locks gently.

“I believe you’ve never heard this,” the girl’s voice was low, the sweetness Jiyong often heard suddenly disappeared. It was as if the words she was about to tell were a secret to be kept from the world outside. “Daesung isn’t the one who turned me.” Her finger played with Jiyong’s ear, and her eyes were no longer painted in black once amethyst blossomed within the vast darkness like a spark. “Yet he was the reason of my very existence. Without him, I wouldn’t be here right now... or I might’ve be dead a long time ago. Or worse, I could’ve been living a very different life than I have right now. I have no privilege of knowing who my maker is for the only interaction we’d ever engaged in was when he buried his fangs down into my veins. Yet, I do remember the day he made me and other teenagers kill each other in the middle of the night. I was so close to having a girl I didn’t know bury her fangs in my throat or break my neck when a man I’d know later as Daesung suddenly raised his hand and rose to his feet, forcing the man I assume to be my maker to halt… whatever it was – a battle, fight, or massacre.”

Jiyong watched quietly as the purple burnt brighter in Jieun’s eyes with streaks of gold spreading outwards. Her fingers tousled his hair and the male didn’t budge at all.

“The girl growled so close to me, and I could still smell the stench of blood she oozed each time I close my eyes, Jiyong…” For a moment, the purple pools inside her eyes hid behind the lids. Jieun paused, the last words floated around before vanishing into the air as she slowly opened her eyes. “Each second passed excruciatingly slow, because I knew the moment I dared to move even only one finger, the girl was ready to tear me apart. My ending was an absolute truth as I was standing there, motionlessly, counting down to my death until a hand tapped my shoulder. I was too scared to move, and when I did, I did because someone was yanking me harshly. And it was none other than Daesung, who only said, ‘Let’s go,’ with his hand around my wrist, dragging me away from the place.”

There was no smile on the female’s face as she pursed her lips tightly. The next moment was spent with none of them breaking the stare and Jieun, seemingly absentmindedly, kept stroking Jiyong’s head. Meanwhile, Jiyong let the words sink in and silence fill in the space between them – he might be too engrossed in the rare sight before him, too absorbed in the luster of amethyst and gold across the depth of dark lake in Jieun’s eyes.

Jieun’s voice eventually found its way to cut through the silence. “The first day after I turned 17, I thought that I’d die in the hand of someone I didn’t know, only to be proven wrong the moment Daesung took me into his house. Death is absolute, even for our kind, yet when our old friend finally decides to pay us a visit remains a mystery. You, among the few, should’ve known this better, Jiyong…”

Jiyong answered by blinking once.

“We’ve heard this for too many times: changes are the only thing that remains static in this vast universe. And this opens up a door of opportunities… of second chance.” By this time, Jieun’s digits stopped playing with the strands of Jiyong’s hair as her hand merely hovered over the head. “Emotions have always been a part of us, Jiyong; it’s a piece from the past we still carry even though we’re no longer mortals. To feel them is inevitable, yet it doesn’t mean that you should let it meddle in your judgment. When the world offers you a plate of chance, refusing it will only be for a naught.”

Unfazed, Jiyong watched as the gust of air began to swirl around the Jieun’s figure, blurring her outlines. The amethyst sparks and gold streaks had been sucked back into the dark orbs, beaming the brightest before Jieun’s silhouette disappeared with a familiar warm smile stretched across her lips.

“Thank you, Jieun,” Jiyong murmured to the breeze, gently caressing his face.

 

*

 

Daesung’s eyes silently followed the movement of Seungri’s foot, tapping out a reckless beat on the carpeted floor – the only sign that exposed the actual emotion filling up Seungri’s head. Yet it wasn’t the only hint Daesung picked, especially once he accidentally touched Seungri’s subconscious, to which the latter responded by sending a blast of ice that made Daesung abruptly cut the contact. Well, there was a solid reason why it was called ‘ _accidentally_ ’, yet the other seemed to be too lost in his own thought to even notice Daesung’s presence.

After all, Daesung was no Jiyong – the day when he discovered his power was already long forgotten and he had a total control over what he was capable of doing. Seungri’s mind was like an explosion right the moment he entered the living quarter where Daesung had been sitting and waiting, and he couldn’t help but absorb them just like anyone with his power would do. However, all he got in the end was the brain freeze and an unsettled Seungri sitting on one of his chairs – if he could see the color of someone’s mood, Daesung was convinced that the one exuding from the other vampire would be nothing but pitch black.

Crossing his legs, Daesung swept the strands of hair away from his forehead and decided to give another try. Hours had passed and there was a small chance that Seungri had lowered his mind’s defense. Cautiously, he widened his reach until he sensed Seungri’s subconscious mind. This time, he saw himself merely standing in front of a gate covered with frosts – a mental image he also broadcasted to Seungri – waiting silently as he let the other male noticed him.

A crack in the image and soon it shattered into pieces. Daesung rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, focusing his gaze at Seungri, who was still closing his eyes. _What’s with this ridiculous imagery, Daesung? I thought you were never into this thing_.

 _Sometimes, it’s necessary to mess up with our routine and habit a little. Among the possible worst ways to die, death by boredom would be the worst of the worsts._ A scoff grazed Daesung’s smirk once he noticed a slight change on Seungri’s features. _What happened? Did everything go terribly with Jiyong?_

When Seungri finally opened his eyes, the glare shot right at Daesung didn’t feel less painful than the cold stabbing his mind from earlier. Seungri pursed his lips tightly, a twitch slightly contorted his face. A moment later, though, a heavy sigh escaped his mouth and the shoulders dropped heavily. _Hate will be a word too weak to describe it. He detests me with all his might, and if it isn’t because he has drained his energy yesterday, I’m sure he would’ve exploded once again_.

A flash of amber rolled into Daesung’s head, a glimpse of Jiyong he saw the night before. _The flame… it was beautiful, wasn’t it?_

 _Not if you were the one trying to kill the fire_ , Seungri curt response came too quickly, and Daesung couldn’t help but feel chill shooting down his spine.

 _Well…_ Daesung sat up, legs no longer cross, as he tried to ignore the cold – fire, apparently, wasn’t the only one that burnt. _But you managed to kill it before the fire razed the room, right? There’s no need to worry about._

 _I should’ve let him burn your dining room to a crisp_.

_Callous, Seungri. You’re so callous._

_By this time, I suppose you should’ve known that it’s not even the right term to explain my nature._ Seungri’s brown eyes glinted almost ominously for a moment until the mist fogged the iridescent orbs. The tapping had stopped. _It’s my fault, isn’t it?_

Daesung fingers fiddled on his knee, his head tilted slightly to the side. It was quiet, _too quiet_ even he could hardly sense anything inside Seungri’s mind except for the void – a tar-black liquid substance leaking out the vessel, slithering slowly across the thin connection between two minds, towards Daesung’s head. One blink and a loud, heavy gasp later, the link was severed and Daesung unconsciously grasped the left of his chest, the tip of his claws dug into the skin.

“Sorry,” Seungri cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s… okay,” Daesung lowered his arm, resting it on his lap. “About Jiyong… did you notice his scar?”

“Yeah, I did. The whispers are true, then…”

_But words are words, Seungri. They no longer matter; didn’t you tell me that you’ve got a plan?_

Seungri nodded. _Jiyong’s yet to answer, though._

 _Hmm… I’m sure you’ll get your answer sooner than expected._ Daesung quirked an eyebrow; an answer to the confusion beaming from Seungri’s eyes. _You’re right, Jiyong loathes you, and I can’t help but feel all those rage boiling inside his head all this time – wait, that’s probably also the reason why I often yell at him, isn’t it? However, no matter how much he despises you, he **knows**. He always knows. It’s just… well, he’s always been stubborn from the day I met him for the first time. But, with enough time for him to contemplate, he’ll tone down. Just... calm down, okay?_

“Daesung?” A frown twisted Seungri’s features as the male slowly cut the connection.

“Yes?”

“Have you ever told Jiyong about your power?” And the answer he got was Daesung’s lips, quirking suddenly, and a small smirk across his mouth. Seungri clicked his tongue.

“Oh… well, well, well… didn’t you try to approach him,” Daesung pointed at his temple, “ _here_?” And the deeper frown on Seungri’s face was more than enough to answer him. “Don’t worry, though. All I’ve been doing is only absorbing his emotions and thoughts; I’ve never done nor have I ever intended to do any harm to him. He’s handful, sometimes, and one of those animalistic ungrateful pieces of ass. However, it’s nothing more than _accidentally_ draining my pets and that’s not a reason for me to play with his emotion. Besides, Jiyong’s more _interesting_ the way he—”

“Daesung.” The name slipped out Seungri’s pursed lips was curt and cold.

The said male rolled his eyes, his fingers carding through his hair to sweep the strands away from his face. “Alright, I get what you mean.” Sitting up, his back straight, Daesung met Seungri’s stare. “I promise. I won’t do anything to him. You have my words. Also, just a heads-up: even if you tell him about our telepathic ability, Jiyong isn’t the kind who will keep his feelings and emotions hidden anyway. You’ll see for yourself.”

Seungri scoffed, a little unsure. But it was Daesung he was talking with – the vampire might seem too laid-back, but he had always been trustworthy. And the fact that Seungri had been one of the most valuable customers should be more than enough to guarantee the trust. Silently, he raised his body off the chair and put on the coat. “I’ll visit you after the sun sets, past your dinner time,” Seungri glanced at Daesung, whose gaze landed at anything but him. Feeling curious, Seungri turned and found Jiyong standing across the room.

A stoic face was all he was staring at, something Seungri surely didn’t expect to see on Jiyong’s features. However, he was not in any position to make the judgment, and Seungri was fully aware of it – after all, he barely knew the other man. It was a different kind of look, yet it felt almost like the quiet before the storm. The temptation to slip into Jiyong’s man emerged once again, but Seungri quickly dismissed it, not willing to slip again. It was a thin thread he was walking on, stretching over a chasm that opened like a mouth, so eager to swallow Seungri alive anytime.

Jiyong didn’t peel his eyes from Seungri’s even when his mouth opened, and the words brushing past the lips were, “I’ll come with you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can never thank [my beta](http://www.asianfanfics.com/profile/view/1559319) enough for always trying to polish my crap. also, all of my nyongtory fics are now published under this new pseudonym: tabloidsuperjunkie. thank you for reading!


End file.
